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September 2006 entries

September 22, 2006

Chocolate Pudding. Not that crap pudding in the plastic cups. We're talking the pudding my mom used to make, set in the refrigerator for a few hours, then pour into green, fluted Ice Cream Fountain-esque glasses with layers of whipped cream interspersed between said killer pudding. *sigh*

Fuzzy slippers.

The words "sumptuous", "douse", and "fluffy".

All things FLANNEL! And the chill in the night air is making me excited about not only wearing FLANNEL PAJAMAS! but unearthing the FLANNEL SHEETS! because FLANNEL IS THE SHIT.

Friday Hottie Christian Bale. Mmmm, Mr. Bale. I've rediscovered your hotness in the darkness of the theater during previews for "The Prestige" where, I must say, you're looking...all right I guess. I mean, whatever. You're okay. Excuse me just one moment, will you? I have to go vaporize into steamy lust in private. *OhmiGOD*

Some Things I Hate:

That I can't dive off a diving board. No way in hell I'm a) getting all the way up there without crying on the inside and b) doing anything fancy off of it - I'm going back down that ladder, you bully.

That Fuzzy-Teeth feeling you get after having hot chocolate or a mocha-anything. It's so damn gross.

The words "jazzy", "plexiglass", and "masticate".

That I did NOT want to like Men In Trees, but I do anyway. Anne Heche is a big obstacle for my brain to hurdle over, yet somehow...through the clever (albeit PUN-laden, which should come as no surprise since there's a Sex and the City influence) writing and strong supporting characters, it has. Dammit. (p.s. - this "Jack" guy is kind of...hot, by God.)

How when you eat almonds, you always find bits of the skin in between your teeth afterward.

Some Things I Just Don't Get:

Ice Fishing. Someone want to clue me in on the appeal there? I'm open to explanation.

Why would anyone like SWEET PICKLES? The horror. The gagging horror.

Why Blackjack dealers wear those bowties.

Curves commercials. I mean, I don't take issue with the concept of the ladies'-only gyms themselves, but those commercials...aren't cool. I mean, "This Little Light of Mine" as a GYM THEME SONG? I...don't...think so.

September 16, 2006

(Wow. I realized it's been five months exactly - FIVE - since I added more to my Blogmarks. Well, that just won't do. Especially when I'm always discovering new things to share with you guys. So here, the latest.)

a great design site. i am mostly excited by the prefab fridays. i love the idea of having a home like that someday. nice resource for those who want to stay a little more informed about "green" design. not just homes, but all aspects of living. (furniture, household solutions, etc.)

September 15, 2006

You know you want him. Friday Hottie: Young Andy Garcia.Girls, do not say anything bad about him or I will smack you until you cry. Do NOT try to tell me that Young Andy Garcia isn't hot enough to melt your eyeballs. Are you looking at me, Y.A.G.? If you keep giving me that steamy gaze I'm going to ooze into a puddle on my chair. What? Oh, yeah, The Husband knows about you and me and he's cool...he's cool. I swear. ...Oh, hi there reader. I'll be honest...I got all twitterpated just doing the search for these photos. He could seriously kill me dead with those dark pools of sexiness in his eyes. Oh, Y.A.G., you complete me.

Big blocks of cheese.

The Big Night soundtrack. (And the movie too, in case you haven't seen it.) It makes me want to make something with mozzarella and tomatoes, all messy-like while dancing around in an apron tossing oregano into everything, and then make out after having a bunch of wine.

Ricky ate my shoe. From my only pair of black shoes suitable for work in the cold weather. That I liked. Which is bad on two levels. One, BAD DOG! VERY BAD DOG! and two, I probably needed those shoes soon because if I can't figure out a way to make some more money I'm going back into office life shortly. RICKY!!! Anyway, I need to be more enterprising very soon. Ideas, people?

That hold-your-hands-over-someone-else's-and-see-if-they-can-slap-you game. I don't ever win that game. I hate to lose. I hate that game.

Watching Richard Dreyfuss act in anything. I don't know what it is. (Well, except for What About Bob, which, come on. "Baby steps! Baby steps to the elevator!")

Some Things I Just Don't Get:

Why men act like we should be very excited about our own boobs. As if we should walk around holding them all the time and be as in awe of them as they are. When really? meh.

Young girls who wear large fake engagement-sized rings even after their fingers start to turn green.

That The Husband gets a sudden case of Voice Modulation Inability (kind of like that SNL skit), in the movie theater. Honest to God, he'll blurt something outloud every once in a while just like he would at home instead of whispering it in the Worldwide Accepted Movie Whisper Mode. And when I follow the rules of the Worldwide Accepted Movie Whisper Mode, he won't turn his head to read my lips or lean in to listen like you are supposed to.

Egg salad. It's gross and jiggly and creamy and makes me scared. It's one of the things I told Pauly in response to his recent post that I wouldn't eat if someone offered it to me. Is it really that good? Why do other people keep eating it?

Why I have to rack my brain trying to think of another thing I don't get this week. I don't want to. So I'll just leave you with this - Ricky the Shoe-Eater on the crappy dog-abused couch in the loft, apparently multi-tasking his chewing duties with his Neighbor-Child Obsession duties:

September 06, 2006

I am not going to mock the child or say she isn't cute, because a) she's just a baby, it's not her fault, and I'm not a jerk and b) she is pretty darn cute. But there's something a little...shocking? unsettling? almost bizarre? about her. She looks exactly like a little computer-assisted merging of a photo of Tom and parts of Katie's face. I'm not going to lie. When I first saw this (not on the official Vanity Fair site), I wondered if it was a joke. It's kind of surreal-looking, don't you think?

So here's your haiku assignment today (I know you're a little rusty since it's been a while since I made you do this, but suck it up): Use your imagination and haiku anything that think you see in Suri's future. I'll go first, as usual.

September 01, 2006

God help me, I love that new Christina Aguilera song, Ain't No Other Man. I figure there's GOT to be less shame in that than liking anything by Jessica Simpson or Beyoncé, so I'm going to fly my Christina-hearting flag proudly, by God.

Quiet, cool, drizzly afternoons when I have nowhere to be and nothing to do, and I can open up the windows and hear the sound of the windchimes on the porch and tires crackling on the wet pavement in our little cul-de-sac. Today's kind of like that. And I'm a little happy inside that I can feel a touch of Fall in the air.

Hot Sauce on pizza. I know. But it's the only way I can eat it now. I have to do it. I must. I am powerless against The Wicked Cayenne.

The new Lime Network. It's gotten me back into yoga (I keep the TV on above my desk every morning and when Yoga Zone comes on, I stop, flop out my mat, and go - there's no excuse not to so it works for me), and the little bits of advice sprinkled throughout the day from Rodney Yee are great.

Some Things I Hate:

The words "juicy", "factoid" and "stringent".

That inevitable moment when the light bulb in your closet goes out. Because it is a PAIN IN THE ASS to get up there and change it, don't you think? I'll sometimes avoid the process for weeks and just get dressed in the dark. Because yes, that' just how lazy this girl is, I'm sorry to break it to you.

See-Saws. When I was little, I had one too many see-saw partners either get off too fast (causing my poor little ass to slam down onto the ground) or decide to torture me and stay down on the ground holding me up at the top (which, come on you know how I feel about heights). Those were what I'd call BAD EXPERIENCES.

That my husband, being 6'6", is far too much bigger than me to be able to lend me his clothes. I have this tiny little bit of me that's BITTER that I can't wear any of his tshirts or casually throw on a sweater when I get chilly. Nothing is even "cutely big", either. It always looks instead that I am Alice In Wonderland and I just drank the bottle that said "Drink Me" and have quickly shrunk down 4 sizes.

Grasshoppers. If you're, say, getting some tomatoes out of your garden and you happen upon one hiding like a sneaky bastard and then it just keeps STARING AT YOU from its wonky eye...you just might feel frozen in your footsteps and want to cry for help. ...Not that I would know, of course.

Some Things I Just Don't Get:

People who put wreaths on the grills of their vehicles at Christmastime.

Do all harpists have to own trailers so they can get their harps to their gigs?

That there's a whole Skiing Culture out there, full of people who marvel incredulously "You've never been SKIING before?!?" No. I have not. And I have no plans to ski in the future. I'm quite clumsy enough when I walk on packed snow with regular shoes on. I can't imagine the medical emergencies that would be made possible by adding me and skis and snow and SPEED together.

This is me.

I'm an animal snuggler, Lover of Words and raging introvert who others often confuse for an extrovert. I'm typically caffeinated as a rule, BE IT BY BEAN OR BY LEAF.

This is the year I'll be talking a lot about my journey to grow further as a photographer, artist, music addict, YOGISTA, writer, volunteer, life adventurer, ALMOST-VEGETARIAN, runner, book devourer, knee sock connoisseur and procreator (yes, after 13 years we're finally working on that one, and it may be a more twisty path than we anticipated).